


Chrysalis Project

by daimoniopolu



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Blood Drinking, Demon, Demon Summoning, Downworlders, F/F, F/M, Hotel Dumort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lightwood-Bane children - Freeform, Lightwood-Banes Being a Family, M/M, Magic, Magnus Bane's Cat Eyes, New York Shadowhunter Institute, Vampire Simon Lewis, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Warlock Children - Freeform, Warlock Magnus Bane, Warlock Marks (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Warlocks, Wings, good parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daimoniopolu/pseuds/daimoniopolu
Summary: Years into the Shadow world alliance, the children of your favourite Shadowhunter characters are trying their best to be the next extraordinary generation. With the Downworld and Shadowhunters working together, the class at the New York Institute is nicknamed the Chrysalis Project, as they are a new beginning, training and working together. They have a huge legacy to live up to, and it’s not going to be easy for a bunch of teenagers to impress sceptical immortals and old fashioned Nephilim.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood
Comments: 26
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

‘Excuse me! Sorry! Coming through! My bad, oh dear pardon me. Sorry!”

It had been a quiet night at the New York Institute, demon activity had been low for a while now and the halls were mostly empty. Sunrise was soon approaching and the Shadowhunters on the night shift were clearing up and dragging themselves off to homes and bedrooms. Shadow hunting was mostly a night job, as demon activity diminished during the day, and so the the day shift was waking incredibly slowly. 

So, amongst the quiet, sleepy institute that was both going to sleep and waking up, the sudden blur of motion was quite unexpected.

Stumbling through the halls at a half jog was a girl, black hair sticking up at all angles and arms full of scrolls and jars, filled with substances that made the surrounding Shadowhunters look the other way. She was a mess, tripping and falling over her own feet, yelling about being late. 

After the war, the Institute and the Clave had really changed for the better. Downworlders were employed by the Clave now, working as partners with the Shadowhunters. Alec and Magnus Lightwood-Bane were the Inquisitor and High Warlock of Idris, effectively the most powerful partnership the Shadow world had ever seen. It was a time for peace, a time for learning.

And this is exactly what the young warlock apprentice was late for.

‘By the angel I am so sorry!” She tripped again, almost running into one of the walls. Her magic sparked, and caught her supplies as they tumbled towards the ground.

Blue, dancing lights caught on the paper. They lifted them carefully, navy embers that twisted with unnatural strength. With a burst of light, her magic gathered the jars and things into a steadier grip in her arms. And then she was off again.

The New York Institute was run by Isabelle Lovelace. Her husband Simon, had taken a Shadowhunter name for her, despite being a vampire. He wanted her to remain a Shadowhunter, even in name after they married. Clary thought it was incredibly sweet and romantic, Jace thought it was hilarious. And Isabelle? She thought it was beautiful name. 

The co Shadowhunter and Downworlder classes had started a few years ago. Teaching the new generation together, raising them to believe in equality. They were unusual classes, a mixture of different fighting styles, history, biology, magic, strength control and the arts. Classes were taught to accommodate all, warlock and Shadowhunters, seelies and werewolves. There was a lack of vampires, due to the transformation process. Most vampires were adults, and laws of the Shadow world were taught within clans.

It was for a very special lesson, early in the morning, that the girl was late for. It was for a presentation on magic, and watching over this class was the High Warlock of Amsterdam. It was supposed to be an incredible chance for the warlocks to show off their skills, and the shadowhunters to show how well they could master the Alliance Rune.

‘Just my luck, getting to go first. As if they didn’t know I’d run late’ she thought bitterly as she rounded the last corner towards the training room.

This particular room was for students only, with high ceilings meshed with bars and ropes and walls that were covered in high cabinets stocked with medical and magical supplies. An array of weapons decorated the walls, and glinted under the candlelit chandelier. The floor was wide and smooth, allowing for mock fights and warlock practices, perfect for summoning circles and searching spells.

The doors flew open with a burst of magic, and the girl bursts in, out of breath and dishevelled. Several pairs of eyes turn and glance at her, eyebrows raise and one student puts his head in his hands, in despair for her lack of common sense. Giggles come from his sister, who is quickly hushed and then gives an encouraging wink. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, but I’m here now and ready to start.” She stands up straighter and dumps her supplies on a nearby table. Rolling up her sleeves, she puts a confident smirk on her face and addresses the group. 

“I am delighted by this opportunity to impress you all, our teachers are brilliant, and I hope to make them all proud.” She juggles her supplies, sparks dancing from her finger tips.

“It is truly an honour, and I hope my presentation makes up for me being late”.

She pulls back her hair into a bun, then spreads her arms out. Magic spreads throughout the room, and she snaps her fingers. The magic responds, rippling and sizzling, like a small storm.

“My name is Celeste Lovelace, shall I begin?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste = 16 years old. She is Simon and Izzys adopted daughter, and she’s a warlock  
> Max = 17 years old  
> Raf = almost 19 years old  
> Made the ages a bit different just to suit the story. I don’t own anything in Shadowhunters, I only own the OCs. Enjoy!

Late that morning, class had finally ended and a group of very tired student were spread around the training room. The candles had been magically altered to shine much brighter and steadier, casting the room in a sunny glow. Celeste was leaning against one the bookcases, absentmindedly plaiting her hair to something more presentable. Although, she was beginning to wonder why she was bothering as she had missed her chance to look professional. 

“You’ve plaited wrong, you need to stop spacing out Ellie”

Max Lightwood-Bane had been scribbling down in one of his many notebooks, draped across an old fashioned armchair. (which no one was quite sure how it got there) At some point Max had glanced up to consider the warlock supplies and had noticed that his cousin was making a mess of her already bird nest hair. 

Max was training to specialise as a healer, his ability to stabilise the injured was incredible and with Catarina Loss as one of his main teachers, it was progressing at an amazing rate. He spent most of his training experience in the Institute tucked away in the infirmary, and the rest practising making wards. His protective wards were taught by his father, Magnus, and their classes often had spectators. Magnus was an impressive deal around the Shadow world recently, now more than ever. It was expected for the husband of the most progressive Shadowhunter in history. Max took after his dad in mannerism, quiet and calm one second and a stumbling mess the next. He was powerful, the way he held himself hid that, and no many suspected that the nervous boy dressed in oversized jumpers was one the best warlock fighters of the generation. 

People looked at his parents, and they radiated power. So different from each other, but powerful uniquely, powerful and kind. Max was strong, he could heal, he could put up deflective barriers that could withstand the force of most demons. His fighting style was encouraged by Alec, and he incorporated his magic with Magnus’ help. He was as kind as his fathers, patient and easy to speak to. His strength was calculating, the force of the unstoppable ocean, controlled by the mind of a doctor. 

Max’s glamour was off at present, his blue skin smooth and glittering under the light of the candles. His horns were still growing, grey spirals out of the blue of his hair. Max struggled with his glamour, it was a full body one, and it gave him a headache to keep it up for a long time. 

Magnus said it would get easier with time, and that he would definitely feel a change once he stopped ageing. Alec had fallen silent when that was mentioned that, a 13 year old Max had glanced up at his parents, and wondered if Alec was still scared. Scared that they would live on and forget him. But then he had laughed, and said it didn’t matter for now, he looked handsome just the way he is. Magnus had slipped some rings onto his horns, and Max had beamed into the mirror. 

He didn’t to bother to hide his mark around the Institute most of the time. And his classmates had never once commented on it before.

“Our presentations were just so good! And we have the rest of the day off. We could go out for dinner for once. We could get dressed up and everything. Or get some training in! I was reading about this new technique last night.......”

“I thought the reason you were late this morning was because you were up all night designing that new pentagram?” Rafael interrupted. He was standing at the nearby table, polishing his seraph blade. He was the oldest out of all of them, basically an adult shadowhunter. He had Magnus’ impressive air of confidence, holding himself at a relaxed tilt. 

“I did a lot of things last night! And realistically we’re all basically nocturnal anyways. My dad is a vampire, I’m not really sure what people expect from me,” Ellie laughed. “You all did awesome by the way. We all did awesome. I love this”

She glances around the room, at her friends, her family. “I adore being here with you. It’s a wonderful life, we’ve got this.”

“You are being very cringey, but incredibly sweet my friend. Don’t tell me this is the part where something dramatic happens and we are all drawn into some huge conspiracy?” The girl pacing the room had stopped and planted her hand on her hips.

Thea Lightwood-Bane was the youngest the three siblings. Just over a year younger than Max, her and Ellie were the same age. Ellie had been adopted by Simon and Izzy when she was three, and the two had grown up together, the closest of friends. The 4 classmates were everything to each other. They grew up together, trained together, encouraged each other’s abilities despite their differences. 

Four years ago, Jace had suggested the idea that they and the rest the classmates in the institute take a name, a team name for their squadron. 

At the time, a young Thea had raised her hand and suggested ( in a very Magnus tone, cocky and with a bright smile) “what about chrysalis? A new beginning. Young members of the Shadow world working together and for once it’s not in a war. We’re working peacefully. A beautiful new beginning, no?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thea = 16 years old. Half warlock, half shadowhunter. Biological child of the Lightwood-Banes  
> Warlock mark = cat eyes

Thea remembered being nine years old. They had all been learning history, and for once their teacher wasn’t an immortal. Uncle Jace had been trying his best, squinting at the textbook Magnus and Caterina had left him. At this point, he was reading in an incredibly bored voice and they were all basically falling asleep. The only one paying any attention was Max, leaning forward in his seat and trying his best to convince himself that this was interesting. Eventually, Jace had given up and allowed them leave, swearing that they wouldn’t tell their parents. Walking deep into the Institute, Thea had suddenly remembered that she’d left her phone back there. “I’ll catch up, I’ll meet you all in the library.”

When she had returned to classroom, the only people left was a group of shadowhunter children. She had never felt uneasy around her classmates before, but all of a sudden she felt uneasy. They had glanced at her, with sneering frowns and hushed whispers.

“I heard she’s just like Jonathan. A filthy experiment, part shadowhunter, part demon.”

“They used IVF I heard, never been done before with a warlock. It’s that mundane technology, all fake life. She’s part warlock, part shadowhunter. I’m surprised it’s not an insane monster like Morgenstern was.”

“It’s a freak. It’s unnatural. They shouldn’t have tried to make something like it.”

Thea had stumbled back. She knew what she was. She would have runes soon, and she had magic already. Her eyes matched her fathers, sparkling amber cat eyes and light olive skin. Her black hair was definitely Alecs and she always knew they were her parents. She had been carried by a friend of theirs, someone she saw as an aunt. She had two wonderful brothers, so brave and strong. 

She never thought it was wrong. Wrong to be born. How could her existence be wrong? 

She wasn’t going to end up like Jonathan, was she? The mix of blood wouldn’t turn her insane...... her parents wouldn’t have made her if they though she would be a monster. A half warlock, half shadowhunter - not a science experiment. She has a loving family, wonderful parents, and more aunts and uncles than she knows what to do with. It couldn’t happen, could it? Tessa wasn’t crazy. But she was born naturally. A demon and a shadowhunter was still a normal pregnancy. IVF was different, she didn’t quite understand it but was she an experiment? Would she be like Jonathan?

Thea grabbed her phone, fingers trembling, her thoughts rushing through her mind at supersonic speed. She was breathing heavily, her hair fell in front of her face and she could barely stand. Turning slowly, she made her way back towards the door. Just a few more steps, it will be fine, one foot in front of the other, come on come on, she can do this, she can make it.

“You’re not a real shadowhunter you know.”

Time slowed. She stopped. 

“I want to kill demons. I want to protect people. I believe in the Angel. I am a shadowhunter. You cannot say otherwise.”

Silence. They had stared at Theas back, watching as she left. She never went to meet up with the others. Heart thumping, pulse slamming like a gong in her head.

She didn’t know when she started running. It just seemed to happen. The loud sound of her feet hitting the floor, louder and louder it was all she could hear. She didn’t know where she was going, where she was running to. Just move, keep moving. As fast as you can. It’s not real, the things they said aren’t real, not true. It can’t be.

“Thea?” 

She had slammed into something. No, someone. They were talking, but it sounded far away. They were tall, and dark. Sturdy. Smelling like sandalwood.

Like home.

“What’s wrong? What happening?”

“Dad” she sobbed. Choking out words and shaking, trembling she clutched to his clothes. He had wrapped his arms around her, holding her, she’s safe here. He’s got her.

It was all a bit of a blur after that. But the next day Alec said he had something he wanted to share with her. They had arrived at the main training room, usually occupied by Shadowhunters sparring. It was empty, and a row of targets had been set up along one wall. 

“I was waiting for your birthday, but I feel like now might be the best time. Those other children will be dealt with. What they said wasn’t true. You are not a monster. If you ever feel like that, I need you to think of Papa. Of Max. Uncle Simon. Tessa. Me. We are all unique. But we are not monsters. Do not call yourself something if you wouldn’t say it to others.”

“They said you aren’t a real shadowhunter. That’s not true either. I’ve got something that might help. Aunt Izzy helped designed it for you, well ..... Clary designed it, Izzy crafted it. But it was my idea.”

They approached a nearby table, Thea’s eyes widened as she stared at it. It was beautiful. And hers? Truly, really hers? 

“I’ve been watching your training style and I thought this might work. Obviously if you change your mind it’s fine, and it doesn’t hurt to be familiar with different weapons.....”

“I love it” she whispered. 

The silver bow was beautifully crafted. Steady silver metal, carved with runes. Powerful, strong. It must have taken Izzy ages to make.

Not a real shadowhunter?

She’d show them. She would show them all.

“When do we start training?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning maybe? Risky behaviour? Obviously not for the characters but humans definitely should not do this. Okay enjoy!!

“Well, I’ve got patrol now. So whatever you guys are gonna do I hope you all have fun. Stay safe, okay?” Raf looked up from his blade, which was brilliantly shining now. He strapped it to his waist and started tucking his cleaning supplies into the drawers of the table. 

“Awwww Raf you sure? We’ve worked soooo hard today!” Ellie exclaimed. She finished her plait and was curling it up at the base of her neck and pinning it elaborately, if they were training, having her hair out of the way seemed necessary.

“Yes I’m certain, the more hours I get in the better I’ll look and the better my chances of running an institute.”

Raf’s dream was to run an Institute, he said it didn’t matter which one...... but once Thea and Max had discovered several books on the Rio Institute in his room, revealing that Raf obviously had a preference.

Thea had been pacing for quite a while now. Her long dark hair fell just below her shoulders, and one side of her head was shaved. It was silky soft, and Ellie could have sworn she saw some glitter in there. Considering Magnus’ tendency to fuss over his children when ever they left home, she wouldn’t be surprised if he tweaked their outfits constantly. Thea stopped suddenly again, and snapped her fingers. Blue sparks flicked off of her finger tips and crackled in the hair. She spun and clapped her hands in excitement. “I have just the thing we can do.”

Raf rolled his eyes and smiled softly. “I’ll see all of you later”, he snuck out of the room and sighed as soon as he was out of earshot. 

What I don’t know won’t hurt me - he thought to himself.

————————————

North of the city of New York, there was a fair amount of fields and farm houses that littered the landscape. Forests, with wide open spaces with very few people. It was ideal for anyone who wanted to get out of sight from society. In one particular field, by a large leafy forest was an odd looking tower. It must have had a purpose at some point, but currently everyone was at a loss for what it used to be. It was a strange structure of metal, with different platforms and had a strange spire on top. Surprisingly, it was pretty sturdy. And so it was decided it was the perfect location.

Thea tilted her head back against the breeze. The sunlight was bright against her eyelids and she smirked to herself. It had been way too long since they had done this. It was refreshing to be out of the city, she and the others spend most of their time either in Idris or New York. Always loud, always busy. But with the whole afternoon off... This was bliss.

The three of them were on the highest platform of the tower, there was nothing but fields and forests for miles, and they were about to do something that made most of the Shadowhunters cringe and squirm with the “risk taking”. 

Thea stretched out her arms. She bent side to side in a gentle exercise, and proceeded to roll her shoulders to get them nice and loose.   
“We’re following all of the rules, right?”

“I’ve checked, rules are we have each other for back up and we’re at the regulation height.” Max grinned and pulled his jumper off, revealing a white t-shirt covered in blue fuzz from his jumper. “You want to go first?”

Thea glanced over her shoulder and hopped from foot to foot. She smiled brightly at her brother and best friend.

“I mean this height thing is for you guys…. But I’ll follow the rules.” Ellie nodded absent mindedly.

She is not going to follow them - Thea mouthed to Max.   
“Yep! I’m ready, LETS GO”

Thea sprinted towards the edge and vaulted herself over the railing. 

The air rushed past her ears. And she fell.

Spiralling and twisting and turning she fell though the air. The ground was getting closer. So close. Almost there. Her body rushed with adrenaline and her heart pounded almost hysterically. 

A few feet from the ground. So very close. 

Blue light spread from Thea’s finger tips, travelling down her arms, torso, legs. It all happened in a fraction of a second.

Thea vanished.

It was like she almost fell out of existence. One instant she was there, the next was a blur of blue light and a gentle popping sound, before she was no longer there.

She was Magnus Bane’s daughter. Of course she was going to be the best warlock at creating portals. Thea could make a portal that covered her like a second skin. She could basically teleport. It was something that was particularly impressive to a lot of elder warlocks, and Magnus loved to boast about her progress. 

Reappearing around 10 feet above the tower platform, she fell again. Doing neat rolls and spins like a diver. Thea felt weightless. It was so EASY. Just letting her instincts guide her. Letting the warmth of her magic wrap around her and move her across the field and free falling into the sky. 

So alive. So powerful.

She slowed. Eventually. And landed with a heavy thump on the platform. Hair all windswept and tussled, she had the brightest smile on her face. Just pure delight and energetic. 

Max and Ellie clapped, Ellie giving a small whoop at her friends display. 

Before when Thea had first started pulling off her disappearing in mid air trick, several Shadowhunters would screech out in surprise after running to try and catch her before she hit the training room floor. 

It was incredibly useful in battle, she could fight her way through, vanishing and reappearing above the enemy. With her bow, she was so skilled she hardly ever missed. If Thea ever doubted her aim, she would use her favourite trick on the arrow mid flight. It would vanish, and strike the target perfectly. It often caught a lot of demons off guard.

“Okay I’m going next!” Ellie said. “It’s been too long since we’ve done this.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlocks all have different marks and different styles of magic. Each warlock needs different help and training, but in this crazy family being individual is expected.

Ellie was usually dressed in loose trousers, perfectly designed for movement and yet still were comfortable and casual looking (provided by a collaboration between Izzy and Clary). She also wore a neat dress shirt, usually in a solid colour of white or some shade of blue or green. Ellie had grown up with Izzy as her mother, and often observed very colourful outfits, more fancy than the occasion required. However, she was also raised by Simon, whose casual jeans and t-shirts also inspired Ellie’s confusing style. Always in either jeans or trousers, with shirts, occasionally striped or spotted, and at formal meeting and parties, maybe a blouse? Her sleeves were always rolled up at the elbows, she spent too much time near fire, paint and chalk from summoning demons. 

Ellie had her arms covered in intricate patterns of pentagrams, each one unique for the purpose of spell casting and other tricks, which continuously surprised both her team-mates and family members. Full disclaimer, they WERE NOT tattoos. Obviously, her Shadowhunter family members did not care  
about it, due to Raf and Thea getting their first runes at age twelve per tradition. Simon was a bit sceptical, this was his only daughter after all and the first time he saw the pentagram circling her wrist, he hadn’t had the best reaction.

Simon had sat at the kitchen counter, taking shallow breathes he didn’t need and rambling to himself. Ellie had just stared nervously at him from across the room, questioning whether she should call Brother Raphael or Magnus because she wasn’t entirely sure if vampires could have nervous breakdowns. 

“You are fourteen years old! Now I know the others have runes but that is completely different! Its basically like their warlock mark. Which you already have! I think I can be fine with this but couldn’t you just have waited until you were older? Who even agreed to do this? It wasn’t Lily was it. Because I love the members at the DuMort I do but this is crossing a line I swear….. I am sorry I’m not mad I swear its just its just ITS A TATTOO and you are so young…”

“Its not a tattoo. It’s henna.”

“What” Simon was staring now with a baffled look on his face.

“Magnus helped me make this magic henna, I can use the pentagram for just about anything if I channel my power though it.”

Ellie demonstrated, the pentagram floating off her wrist and solidifying midair into an oddly shaped throwing star. 

“Magnus said it will fade like actual henna, I will have to reapply it. But if you don’t like it I won’t.”

Simon started laughing, a nervous laugh that got louder and louder until he had to bury his head in his hands.

“Oh. Oh thank God. That is pretty cool actually, um, show me? I’m interested. You know I love the progress you make as an apprentice. I am proud of you. But please please tell me about these things.”

“I mean…” Ellie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Mom knew about it.”

“WHAT.”

———————————

Ellie was standing atop the tower, watching Thea spin and rise and fall in the sky. Thea was incredibly graceful, vanishing with ease. When she had landed back on the platform, her smile was the brightest thing there, shining with more light than the sun and breathless. Thea was like her Dad, always just a bit tense, despite being so confident like Magnus. It was good to see her so light, so genuine.

It really had been too long since they did this - Ellie thought.

She began to unbutton her shirt, shrugging it off and folding it neatly. Ellie wore a black vest underneath, and as she turned to put her shirt into her satchel, her bare back was revealed to her teammates. The vest was backless, showing smooth skin and a healthy amount of flesh and muscle. 

Ellie moved forward and leaned against the railing overlooking the fields and forest. She licked her finger and held it up to the wind.

“It seems safe. I think I can handle this. But obviously, if I fall, you will catch me?”

“Always” Max and Thea echoed. “What are friends for?”

Ellie smirked, and began to back up. Taking off at a run, her feet pounding on the metal and then launched herself over the railing.

The glamour faded, young warlocks always struggled to hold them for long periods of time. It often gave them headaches, a sore spot just in one place on the skull. It was a relief to let it go.

The wings erupted from her shoulder blades. 

The wingspan was surprisingly large for her age, big enough to support her weight with ease but not too large to be inconvenient. The feathers were a dark brown, so dark that in the right lighting they were almost black. They were a pain to glamour. They were basically extra limbs that needed folding away and vanishing so that they were basically non existent. The wings melded into the muscles on her back, Ellie didn’t give a lot of thought to where the bones melded into her shoulder blades, it was an uncomfortable thought. Ellie was required to train the wings several times a week to keep them strong and healthy. As a result, underneath the soft fluffy feathers was a thick strong layer of muscles. 

One firm flap sent Ellie flying high up into the sky, her body weighed next to nothing when supported by the dark wings. She could use strong strokes to power her way through the skyline, feeling the wind between each individual feather and whistling past her ears. Higher and higher she rose, and the flipped onto her back and let herself fall. Wings tucked tight to her back.

Ellie caught herself by expanding her wings out, slowing her fall and soaring through the sky. She glanced at the tower, Max had left off the tower by now and was falling through well placed portals that littered the field. Thea was watching them, a content smile on her face. 

They went on like this for hours, falling and gliding and watching each other. 

Warlock children didn’t normally get a happy childhood, let alone one where they could learn the warlock arts in a safe and stable environment. 

Magnus, Catarina, Lorenzo. They were teaching these kids the best they could. Alec, Izzy, Simon, Jace, Clary, doing their best to raise them and letting them know how much they were loved.

The sun began to set, dipping below the horizon and dyeing the sky a beautiful spectrum of red and orange. It was like the sky was a warm gentle fire, the forest was peaceful and birds sung softly in the evening light.

Three people sat atop the tower, basking in the evening of a successful day. Ellie’s wings were folded at her back, the extra length spread out behind her. Max was laughing at something, his head nodding up and down as he shook, horns adorned with rings that Thea kept summoning and slipping on them. Cat eyes crinkling in laughter, Thea fell backwards, leaning onto her hands and smiling at her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celeste Lovelace - warlock mark - wings  
> Raphael did become a priest eventually, and was later called Father Raphael when he started running a church in New York. Since Ellie has known him a long time, she calls him Brother Raphael instead, simply because she wants to and doesn’t feel like using his title of Father.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starring Magnus Lightwood-Bane and family fluff? Slight warning for suggestion of rape, nothing vivid I promise! Enjoy!

Magnus enjoyed living in Idris, it reminded him of older cities and quiet nights before cars and nightlife. Not that he didn’t enjoy the clubs and bars, he simply adored them. But leaning over the balcony looking at the silent silver city, surrounded by mountains and gentle sloping forest, sipping a cocktail and breathing in fresh air; it was, quite literally, heavenly. Magnus enjoyed evening like that, which made being the High Warlock of Alicante worthwhile, because sometimes working with the Shadowhunters was an absolute nightmare. 

It was getting to be around 10 o’clock in the morning and Magnus was leaning over this desk in the office, blinking wearily as he tried to figure out this unnecessarily complicated potion. The room was pretty dark, shelves filled hazardously with ingredients and dried herbs tied hanging to the edges. It was a comfortable room, and Magnus was reading by the light from the nearby window, that peaked through the curtains at an odd angle.

“Have you been there all night?”

Max had walked past the door on his way to kitchen, when he had seen Bapak slumped over his desk. Max had moved slowly backwards and was now staring at his father, a concerned frown upon his face.

“Well yes but it’s nothing for you to worry about Blueberry” Magnus swirled his wrist around and sat up straight in his chair, his back making a very loud crack as he stretched. “Just working on something, but I’m sure I can have a break now.”

He stood suddenly and moved gracefully round the desk, clapping his hands together in one swift motion.

“How did the presentations go yesterday? You seemed exhausted when you all got back last night, you didn’t go off getting yourselves into trouble after, did you?”

Moving towards one of the tables in the room, Max began to secure lids on bottles whilst talking.

“It went really well, the High Warlock seemed impressed. Nothing went wrong or unexpected so that was a bonus.”

The bottles clinked quietly under his fingertips, blue hands working carefully and with precision.

“After we went out North of the city and Ellie went for a fly. It was nice, really nice. My portals are working really, and we had no close calls I promise.”

Magnus cocked his head to side and took one slow step towards his youngest son.

“If everything went so well, then what’s wrong Blueberry?”

Max stiffened. He had been wanting to ask this for a while, it wasn’t really asking per say because he knew the answer but he had been feeling the urge to talk about it and he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

He fiddled with the cuffs of his fluffy sweater, soft fabric rubbing between his fingertips. “Your father is Asmodeus, and we know Ellie’s father is a decently powerful demon. They manipulated the women they slept with. It’s something we know. They pretended to be human.”

“But I know my biological father isn’t a powerful demon. It’s simply an animalistic creature with no power other than instincts to kill.”

Magnus watched patiently. Young warlocks often did a spell at some point to find out their demonic parent. Magnus remembered when Max had only seen an ugly animalistic creature in the pentagram, not even cable of sentient thoughts.

“My mother must have been terrified. It’s no wonder she gave me up. I was born out of hate, not even a fake human interaction.”

“Max”  
“My beautiful boy. Your mother left you with note which doubted you could never be loved. I admit she was scared, but that isn’t a reason to leave your child in that horrible way. She could have let you be adopted with implying you were unloveable. It may explain her actions but it does not excuse them.” Magnus whispered in gentle soothing voice. 

Raf may be their oldest child but they adopted Max first. Magnus only wanted to protect him, but he knew the pain of being abandoned by a mother too well. 

“Me and your dad love you, adore you with all our hearts Blueberry. I am sorry that if where you began was pain, but that does not define your life, lingering on the past will not benefit you.” 

Magnus leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his boy, who was shaking slightly. 

“Thank you Bapak. Thank you thank you.”

Max smiled at his father, who made him feel safe and loved. They soaked in each other’s presence, father and son, safe together.

———————————————————

“Max! Bapak! Please help us none of us can cook and we were trying to make you breakfast but it’s going horribly wrong we’re sorry!”

Thea came bursting into the room, comfy pyjamas covered in flour, Raf at her heels with his hands covered in watery batter that was dripping onto the floor.

Down the corridor, Alec Lightwood-Bane could be heard shouting and muttering nonsense as something crashed in the kitchen.

“Sometimes I really worry about this family,” Magnus sighed, putting his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Raf and Thea cannot cook at all, Magnus prefers using magic to cook, but Max is a brilliant cook and is one of the main reasons his family doesn’t starve.  
>  Also, Bapak is what Magnus wanted Max to call him in the books, meaning dad or father I believe in Indonesian.   
> Max’s biological father is a demon, but not a “human-like” one. It had no mind or thoughts, unlike other demons and greater demons. His mother would have known her child was conceived by a literal monster, unlike Magnus’ mother who believed she only slept with her husband.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING contains suicide, and gore and depressing things. I don’t know how I ended up writing this. Skip chapter if you think it will trigger you, I’ll put a short summery in notes! Enjoy!!!

A long time ago...

In the outskirts of London, in a shabby town that no one really passed though or remembered, a woman was screaming. It was a rundown place, surrounded by farmland but with a main road leading to the city passing by. It was the sort of place that all the students went to schools outside the town, and almost everyone worked in the city, commuting everyday and coming home late at night. 

It was early September, and the woman was still screaming. She was huddled in a simple house, three bedrooms, two bathrooms. Curled up on the living room floor, she was running out of breath as she screeched. Her voice was filled with horror and terror, a painful sound that echoed out of her throat deeply. Hands tugged painfully at her hair, curled up deep into her hair and scratching at her scalp.

The man was watching her carefully, with little interest. To him this was incredibly boring, she knew her housemates wouldn’t be back until morning, nobody was going to hear her scream. His legs were crossed, and his dark amber eyes never flickered from where she lay curled upon the floor. 

It had been a long 9 months. He had played the part well, he thought smugly to himself. The caring man who had accidentally impregnated a one night stand, but had agreed to support her in anyway she wished. It was pathetic really how she had fallen for his kind words, and how she had promised she would let him visit their child.

But, secrets revealed and his monstrous nature now shown, she lay trembling in fear and hatred for him and what she carried. She screamed and screamed and didn’t move except for the shaking. 

“I will not let you have the monster inside of me”, she croaked out at last, “I will not let you win. I will destroy it, I will not have it.”

The demon smiled slowly, and did not move from his relaxed position. 

“Do whatever you want, it does not mean anything to me.”

The screaming wasn’t heard again.

————————————

The man walked out the house, the moon shined brightly overhead and the gentle breeze softly blew his hair away from his face.

The demon reached down, and ever so gently stoked the head of the baby in his arms. It was with a gentleness a demon would only show to their offspring. His perfect little warlock, dark fuzzy hair and warm soft skin. She was sleeping happily in his arms, safe from the world. At present, the only imperfection would be the scar that lay across one of her sides. 

It had been easy to heal, thought the demon. But the scar was stubborn and it remained. It was raw and sore looking, too red against her pale white skin. 

“Foolish woman, any harm you may try and do I can fix with ease” he murmured, tickling his baby under the chin. 

As they pair moved away, the door of the house closed behind him. Behind it, blood stained the kitchen floor, and the knife grabbed by the woman remained in her stomach. Carefully put back after the demon had rescued his baby as she watched as her last efforts to stop him failed. 

For who was the demon to deny a dying woman her last wish? The people who found her would assume that in the mess of her torso were the remains of the baby, as she took her own life in a messy and frantic manner.

The demon hadn’t lifted a finger to her. She had done the harm herself. Humans, what odd creatures.

———————————————

Three years later...

“Look! Papa! Look Papa there’s a fishy come see! Look in the water!”

It was surprisingly empty at Central Park, New York.

The demon was watching with a genuine smile as his little daughter ran near the river and watched the silver fish darting around. He had had to have made a difficult decision, he had things to do, places to be. But he simply adored his daughter too much. He never gave her a name. Only calling her little one, as he did not feel the need to name her so young.

“Come on now, little one. I have something I need to show you, I believe you will find it very curious”, he called, voice soft and silky.

The little girl glanced up, smile so sparking white upon her face and sprinted up to him, dark hair flying behind her and chubby little legs pounding loudly on the ground to fling herself into his arms.

The demon scooped her up, holding her petite body with only one arm which she perched on like a branch. Her arms went round his neck and she giggled as he walked swiftly.

The church was not brightly lit, as it was nearing evening, but not dark just quite yet. The demon placed his little daughter on the steps of the church, and ran his fingers gently through her hair.

“I will miss you little one. When you are older, contact me, I look forward to seeing how you turn out.”

“Papa?” She squeaked and leaned forward to grab his shirt. “Where are you going? Have I been bad? Please please don’t go!”

“There is nothing you could do that could make me angry at you, my precious one. Be careful now. The world is dangerous, and it is not my job to protect you.” The demon leaned forward to press a kiss (a human custom, but one he knew had value) to her forehead.

She slumped onto the steps, and the demon stood sharply and turned. Walking away, the sound of his footsteps echoed through the churchyard.

———————————-

“Raphael? What is it are you alright?”

“Isabelle, I think you need to send someone over to my church right away. I found this unconscious warlock on my steps, I think she may be abandoned.”

“A warlock child then? Me and Simon are coming right now, just keep her calm if she wakes up.”

“I believe she’s three years old if I have to guess. She’s not hurt at all, but you can look at her properly when you get here.”

“Thanks Raphael, we’ll be there soon. If we can’t find a parent hopefully we can find a good home for her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, it’s Celeste. Her demonic father revealed himself to her mother who went mad and killed herself in order to kill her demonic baby. The demon took Ellie from her dying body and raised her for three years, before leaving her with Raphael Santiago, who was known for his ties with the Shadow-world. Then, Simon and Izzy met her and decided to adopt her!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, the demon in the last chapter is not my OC, it is a character from another fandom. I may do a crossover later but it will be a separate work so this one will stay Shadowhunters. If you can guess who it is please say in the comments! Please leave comments and any questions you have! If there’s anything you want me to write, any prompts you like I’m open with suggestions! And nowww, some domestic Sizzy.

“I’m finally finished with that case, the one with all the pixies in the graveyard?”

Izzy took a huge bite of toast and jam, perched on the kitchen stool. 

“Yah they kept tormenting the mundanes” another bite of toast, mumbling with her mouth full “it’s such a good thing that all the seelies help us out now, before it used to be impossible getting everyone to work together you know?” 

Simon glanced over to her from where he was making pancakes further down the counter, flipping the first pancake with a satisfying sizzle. “Izzy? You’re rambling. And you’re obviously very hungry...” He watched her reach across the table to grab the Nutella, spread a thick layer onto her toast and stuff her mouth full again, causing crumbs to gather at the sides of her lips.

“Cravings. I feel good about it though, there’s no need to worry. When will those pancakes be done?”

“If you stop stuffing your face full of food and be patient for a couple minutes more you’ll get your pancakes, oh mighty warrior”, Simon pulled the pile of toast away from her and raised his eyebrows. “Shadowhunters, I have no idea how you can eat so much and where does it go?! No one knows!” He pointed the spatula at her. “You, Isabelle Lovelace, are a prime specimen of the weird Shadowhunter species.”

“I don’t think the vampire should be the one to lecture me about my eating habits.”

“Okay that’s a fair point.”

The house they had acquired for themselves was only 5 minutes from the institute, it had a large hallway with a small grand staircase. The surrounding rooms on the ground floor consisted of a recording studio, library, weapons room, a large wooden floor training room, and of course a comfy living room and kitchen. The top floor had several bedrooms and bathroom, as well as an art studio and a room with basic medical supplies. They had got it after deciding to adopt Ellie, it had plenty of space for visits from their family and was close enough to the New York Institute to allow Izzy to still run efficiently. 

Simon worked part time for the Institute, and still wrote books and played music in his spare time. The two of them had a comfortable home, jobs they enjoyed and although they faced death most days they were incredibly happy. And this morning a package arrived for their daughter along with the usual letters, Simon was intrigued by what could possibly be in it.

“Morning!” beamed Ellie as she slipped though the kitchen door, messy black hair covered her shoulders and light blue shirt slightly ruffled in the haste she had put it on. Her wings weren’t present, but due to her rolled up sleeves the pattern of pentagrams littering her forearms was clearly visible.

“Would you like my help with breakfast, Dad?”

“NO,” Simon yelped. “No. You have the Lightwood curse of being unable to cook, El. Don’t you dare come near my hard work. I mean it!” He threatened the two with the spatula, pointing it at both of them in turn. “Stay away from the pancakes.”

Izzy glanced at her daughter and the two of them looked fake offended before bursting into laughter. Ellie took a seat next to her Mom, crossing her legs and leaning forward to rest her head in her hands.

“You can laugh all you want, I’m the only reason the two of you get a decent meal three times a day. And I don’t even eat myself!”

“Thanks Dad, I do truly appreciate it. Even though the pan is smoking.”

“By the angel!” 

Simon rushed around removing the pancakes from the stove and slipping the large amounts of sugary goodness onto plates. He added strawberries and syrup to both plates, adding cinnamon to Ellie’s and chocolate to the other which he pushed to his wife.

Ellie chirped a thank you and began to eat, just as messily as her Mom, who laughed as the discussed recent missions at the Institute.

Simon opened the fridge and pulled out a B- blood bag from the blood self. With a snap of her fingers, Ellie warmed up the blood in his hands.

“Thanks El”, he smiled brightly and opened of the tubes at the top of the bag and began to suck at it like a straw. He took a seat at the counter, listening to his wife and daughter laughing and talking. Simon chimed in in between gulps of blood, Ellie excitedly telling him about her presentation and all the amazing performances the others had done.

“I almost forgot!!” Simon sat up straight all of a sudden. “Becky sent you a package. With the usual letters.”

Ellie’s glanced up, now gone quiet. It was rare she got gifts from her aunt. They saw each often enough, and she adored Aunt Becky. But Simons sister wasn’t supposed to let her grandmother or anyone else know Simon was alive, so visits were at random times and she definitely never sent presents in the mail before. 

She grabbed the box, and used her magic to remove the tape with ease. Inside was a dress, a simple, grey dress made of soft material. 

“I know it isn’t really your style, but i saw the shape and thought it might come in handy one day. Lots of love, Aunt Becky” 

The little white note was placed carefully on the table top, and as Ellie lifted the dress from the box she saw the casual piece of clothing was backless.

—————————————

Ellie stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that way to see how her wings fit into the dress. The gap left plenty of space to show the smooth skin of her back, but there was one problem. A scar that ran down her left side peaked out, it was shiny silver and wide, stretched over time as she had grown. 

But most of her family had scars anyway? She shouldn’t be self conscious about it. Ellie twirled, watching as the dress floated around her as she moved.

Feeling stiff from yesterday’s exercise she sat down on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, and leaned forward to touch her toes. The wings rose into the air and stretched. Hair falling forward into her eyes, Ellie sat up again and pinched a few strands between her fingers.

Smiling to herself, she began to delicately plait the dark stands of hair.

https://pin.it/3XK15O8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve included a drawing done by my friend, which was the inspiration for the ending of this chapter. I have got a plot in mind, but I’m open to adding in any scenes people want to see, or maybe doing a chapter with just some general information on my OCs and the other characters. If you have any questions for me, (or for them!) feel free to ask! If anyone asks a question about a chapter, I might add to the notes to explain certain things. I hope you liked this chapter!  
> Edit - I have no idea how to attach images, if anyone know how please tell me!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does a warlock teenager do when her parents aren’t home?

The room was originally decently large with lots of floor space. There were three large windows along one wall, facing out to a nearby park, showing trees and wide open grass space. There was a walk in wardrobe, that was filled with shirts, blouses, blazers and a few casual t-shirts. A handful of dresses were near the back, the only thing that seemed neat as they weren’t worn as often. 

Ellie had spread her messiness to the rest of the room, the desk was over spilling with papers and old books, and the floor was covered in art supplies. Pieces of chalk were gathered into little piles on most surfaces, and bottles of paint balanced dangerously at the edge of surfaces. The walls were covered in layers of different symbols drawn over each other, where Ellie awoke in the middle of the night and had to scribble her ideas somewhere. The majority of paint and chalk was purple, but there was also different shades of blue, green, red and orange. 

The bed placed against one wall was neatly made with grey sheets, and thin blankets. Pillows were piled onto the bed like giant marshmallows. When a person has wings, sleeping could sometimes be a challenge. Ellie often slept on her front, with pillows surrounding her to rest her wings on. She covered herself with her wings like a blanket, so there was little need to have thick duvets and blankets upon her bed.

Currently, Ellie was leaning with her back against her door, listening to her parents talking as they prepared to leave for the Institute. Their voices were muffled by the door, but she definitely heard the shutting of the front door as they left the house, taking their weapons with them.

Ellie sighed, and struggled to push her sleeves even further up her arms. 

“Time to get to work.”

Raising her arms, the furniture of the room began to float a few centimetres off the ground. Her belongings scattered of the floor flew onto the bed, and with a flick of the wrist, the carpet began to roll back until it gathered at one end of the bedroom. The furniture dropped with a thump back onto wooden floorboards, sending dust lifting into the air. 

On the old floorboards, Ellie had drawn a pentagram. It was a dark purple, with thick lines made by chalk. It filled the whole space, and there was words of Latin written around the outside, in bold swirling handwriting.

She walked around it, her soft socks making gentle steps of the hard floor. Standing at one point of the star, Ellie crouched down and placed her hands at the edge of pentagram. Blue light gathered around her hands, it crackled like a bonfire and she began chanting in Latin. 

Cross legged on the floor, Ellie did not stubble on any of her words, swiftly changing from Latin to a more harsh sounding language. It sounded forced on the human tongue, full of growls and rumbles designed for a much deeper voice. 

The pentagram glowed, her magic seeping from her fingertips. It began to burn, glowing like a hot ember. 

The smell of sulfur filled the air, and black smoke rises from the centre of the circle. It moved curiously to the pentagram boundaries, exploring the demon trap. 

Out of breath, Ellie stoped her chanting and watched as the demon moved with ease around the pentagram, floating and twisting into different shapes. 

Eventually, it settled in the centre, forming a vague human shape on the floor, unnaturally long legs crossed to mimic the warlocks. It stared at the warlock child, it was faceless at the moment but then a slit opened at the base of its head. The mouth was filled with rows of sharp teeth and it was supernaturally long. The corners of the demons mouth reached too far up it’s face, almost like someone had ripped its cheeks like paper.

Ellie smiled in return, her smile gentle and small on her face in comparison. 

“Hello Father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days? I think I’m doing pretty good... Also, what the hell is Ellie up to? *evil smirk*


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought it was time for a fight scene. This is the first one I’ve ever written so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect, I tried my best. Hope you like it!!

“There have been reports of a group of minor demons in a warehouse in north Brooklyn. Two mundanes have been killed, one was ripped to shreds and the other had their heart ripped out. From what we can tell, there is at least one sentient demon there. We’re not sure if it is planning anything, or if it and the others are simply killing mundanes for amusement. The warehouse has two entrances, no windows except several high at the top of the building. We estimate ten demons, with no more than two being clever enough to outsmart you.”

Underhill glanced around the briefing table. The Institute was busy this time at night, just before midnight when the night was darkest. The demons were most active now, and Shadowhunters bustled though the hallways readying weapons for patrols and missions. Vampires who worked for the Institute were arriving to assist, wide awake after sleeping all day.

“The Chrysalis squad will be handling this mission solo. I will be back here, and if anything goes wrong you will reach out to me and request backup. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” They chirped back, backs straight and eyes alert. 

“Thea will be stationed on the roof. You will act as sniper, take down anything you can see below. You will also act as cover for your comrades.  
Celeste and Rafael will be stationed at the North entrance, go in and exterminate the demons. The two bodies were found at this entrance so we are assuming the majority of demons reside at this part of the warehouse. Maxwell, you will be at the South entrance. Do not let any demons escape though the back at the others move their assault in your direction.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”

————————————————-

The warehouse was large and filled with shelves stocked with random pieces of machinery. It’s eerie old lights flickered on and off high in the rafters.

Ellie and Raf nodded to each other as they pushed open the warehouse doors. They closed the doors behind them, the loud creaking of the door too loud for Raf’s liking. Reaching down to the handle, he drew a locking rune with his stele. Tucking it back into his pocket, he straightened his black jacket and tilted his head to the side, indicting Ellie to follow. 

Raf held his seraph blade in his right hand, glowing in contrast to his black gear. Ellie was dressed as usual, dark green shirt and black trousers. Hair plaited and pinned at the back of her head. Held in her hand was a khopesh, a curved sword. 

Splitting up, the two moved to walk between the high shelves. The lights flickered and something crashed in the dark.

The demon lunged at Ellie’s left and she swung her sword knocking it back. The creature was the size of a large dog with rows of sharp pointed teeth that looked like needles. It screeched and moved to attack her again, but she parried by hitting it with the flat of her blade. Ellie ducked as its arms reached out to grab her by the throat. 

Moving underneath it, Ellie forced the blade deep into the demons chest. It growled in pain, deep sounds that spit from its mouth and its limbs twitched. She manipulated her magic through the blade, sending it deep into the demons body, burning it from the inside out.

It exploded into a mess of darkness and red sparks, falling away in the air. Pulling herself to her feet, Ellie breathed heavily and glanced towards the other side of the warehouse. She could hear Raf breathing loudly and grunting as he fought.

“Everything okay over there?!” Ellie yelled, noticing another demon was heading towards her, slowly, bending at unnatural angles.

“I’ve killed two, working on a third.” Raf yelled back, out of sight.

There was no paint in being quiet now, the demons knew they were there.

Running towards the demon, Ellie sliced it across the neck and watched as it exploded. Several more of the demons were circling her, crawling on the walls with long clawed nails, skin looking like molten tar. 

Suddenly, an arrow pierced one through the skull, another hitting it in the chest, then it’s arms until it exploded and died. 

Thea perched on the beam, cat eyes gleamed eerily in the darkness. Her feet were firmly planted and she leaned her weight on one knee, scanning the scene below. Ellie glanced up and gave her a quick nod before rushing forward to deal with the other demons. Thea held her bow tightly in her gloved hand, slitted pupils narrowed as she observed her teammates move swiftly through the swarm. Rafael had his back to a rather large demon, ugly thing oozing black slime across its skin. In Thea’s opinion, it was pretty funny that he was so occupied that he couldn’t see it.

Red magic sparked in her hands and flickered forward, precise and tight, until an arrow formed in her bow. Pulling back, her whole body tensed. In moments like these, it was like life slowed. Practised movements that she completed with ease. Thea let the arrow fly, and it struck true in the skull of the demon. It fell screeching, dissolving into red sparks. 

————————————————-

Now this wasn’t exactly going to plan. Somehow these children were more competent than expected. How unusual. He had expected them to be killed. 

The boy looked around twelve years old, scrawny with dirt stained limbs. Matted yellow hair was streaked with dirt, the demon almost had the appearance of a child’s drawing. Arms a bit too long, lips too thin. He tilted his head, a scowl on his face as his brethren were slaughtered. The Shadowhunter and warlock were occupied, the archer in the rafters watched over them. 

They wouldn’t notice if he slipped out with the shadows.

He turned, disinterested in the battle and began to slowly move towards the exit. 

“That makes nine!” he heard the warlock call out. “The last one must be somewhere.”

Cursing, the demon hurried along the shadows. They were still searching the warehouse, but he could keep darkness wrapped around him in order to keep them from noticing him as he made his escape. 

Slipping out the door, he smirked to himself, hearing the Shadowhunters talking far behind him. Foolish children. And yet...

Dangerous children.

It was a cloudy night, dark and murky. The sort of night that swallowed up the living, people got lost in it and never returned. It was a demons playground.

“Where exactly are you running too?”

The demon stopped. The figure had moved to face him, like they had been casually leaning against the wall of the warehouse. 

The figure was clothed in a long coat, the demon would have called it a lab coat, but it was a dark blue in colour. A warlock then.

“I really wouldn’t run if I were you.”

The demon began to frown and continued to move forward. The warlock was much taller than them. But he could sense its soft nature, a kind gentle nature that was made to heal and soothe.

Max watched as the young form the demon had taken moved forwards, not hesitating as it did not slow in its movements. 

“I wouldn’t underestimate me.”

“Come onnnnn Warlock. You’re a healer. I can smell it on your skin. What are you gonna do, poke me with your scalpel?”

A wall of blue flame sprung up around the pair, it rose, burning and roaring. The demon turned frantically, but Max remained composed, hands in his pockets. Magic fire swarmed towards the demon, who screeched and drew up his own protective barrier. 

The demon tried to hold Max’s magic back, but it flared bright and cut through his barrier like butter. Stumbling backwards, the demon gave a cry of desperation and with clawed hands expelled shadows deep into the flames. 

They snuffed out. The demon grinned triumphantly and spun back round to face his attacker. 

The knife went through his neck. The demon choked, blood filling his mouth and clawed hands flailing in the air reaching for his throat. 

Max was incredibly close, one hand still in the pocket of his coat, and the other held the knife, a slender silver weapon that was now darkened by ichor. 

The demon hadn’t even dented Max’s magic, he had withdrawn it himself. Gargling, he stared into the warlocks blue eyes and felt something he couldn’t quite identify in that moment, but would later understand what it was.

Fear.

The demon died, vanishing into a pile of ash, banished back to Edom.

Max calmly tucked his knife back into his pocket. 

“Everything okay out here?” Raf called as the trio exited the building.

Max looked at them and gave a shy smile.

“I’ve got everything under control.”

————————————————-

Jace always said that all the legends were true. For quite a lot of stories and fairy tales this was an accurate statement.

And it also fits one particular saying:

Demons run when a good man goes to war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you liked it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampire moments with Simon. He’s just trying to do the right thing...

Simon was busy flipping through a book, trying to read the first chapter of this novel that he was considering buying. It was early evening, and the last of the days shoppers were milling around picking up last minute items. The bookshop was a popular one, and Simon already had several books tucked under his arm. Glancing up, he could see the sun setting across the city, the last of the days sunlight glinting on the windows of the surrounding buildings. Snapping the book shut, he moved towards the counter and with a cheery smile paid for the books. He slipped them into a satchel, and politely thanked the woman, who waved him goodbye and wished him a good evening.

Closing the door behind him, Simon walked leisurely through the streets of New York. He had quite a lot of time to himself, as his wife and daughter were both at the Institute. Simon had spent the afternoon talking with Lily at the DuMort, it had taken him a while to accept that having good connections there would be beneficial, but in recent years he considered them part of his family. But sometimes he felt guilty, about his mother, about her grief and how he couldn’t sit with his family during holidays and birthdays. Becky’s children who didn’t know him, her wedding which Simon was unable to attend properly. He had stood glamoured on the sidelines, red tears of blood running down his cheeks as he smiled, watching her blissfully happy. 

Suddenly, he came to a standstill. Simon inhaled. He tended not to breathe when in crowds, it was less distracting. But now he could smell it, floating through the crowd and coming from the empty side streets. 

Blood.

A lot of it as well. From across the city, deep in twisted alleys.

Drinking often was vampire 101. Simon kept himself well fed. It was an easy thing, with a few years of practice. It meant that in this moment, Simon’s instincts were more useful than they were troublesome. 

Moving at vampiric speed, Simon found himself twisting in and out of the dark streets of New York. “Come on, where are you where are you? You’ve got to be somewhere here come on.” He snarled in frustration. The smell was mingling with other scents, it was becoming too difficult to find its origin. With the amount of blood in the air, whoever this was bleeding out, they were running out of time. 

“Whoever you are, I’m going to find and help you, just hold on.”

He was panicking now. Rushing through street after street, buy he couldn’t tell if he was getting closer or further away. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, it was sweet and mouthwatering but he knew, oh God he knew that someone was hurt. It didn’t matter right now how delicious the smell was, how heavy it laid in the air and how it made Simon feel a sick sort of anticipation that there was such a fresh meal nearby. Someone was hurt, and by the angel was Simon going to help them.

Eventually, Simon found the alleyway. It was huddled in a darker corner of the city, abandoned apartment buildings looming over each side. And when Simon saw the source of the blood, he felt that if his heart could beat, it would have stopped for a second.

The girl was barely breathing, body trembling in desperation to cling onto life. She was covered in grime, loose clothes hung off her fragile frame, ribs showing through the shirt. Hair was dark and long, thick with dirt and dust and clung together in ugly clumps. 

Simon had seen homeless people before, of course he had, but this was different. This child was a wreck, looking like she had never seen fresh water or the light of the sun.

And then there was the wound.

She had been shot, just below her heart. It was a wide, raw wound. Close range gunshot. She had been bleeding out for some time, it was pooled underneath her, and she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

The gun was lying loosely in her hand, gently dropped onto the ground, as if someone had calmly moved it to rest at her side.

“Oh kid, what have you done?”

Simon cupped her head in her hands.

“Can you hear me? Come on kid you need to stay awake for me come on”

She blinked at him slowly, it was a motion that seemed forced and painful, like lifting an eyelid was like holding the weight of the world. 

There was no way he could get her out of there in time. He knew how much blood a human could loose before it became fatal. That was around three litres of blood on the ground, way too much to loose for the average adult and considering how young this girl was and how underweight...

She was around the same age as his Ellie.

Simon couldn’t let her die, this bleeding girl who didn’t even call for help. There was no time, he wouldn’t be able to get her to a hospital, and even if he did make it there wouldn’t be a lot they could do at this point.

You can save her, the voice at the back of his head whispered. You can save her, give her a second chance.

“I am sorry, God I am so so sorry.”

He’d never done this before, not this way. Fangs sinking into the flesh of his wrist, Simon almost gagged at the taste of his own blood in his mouth. It bled heavily, blood oozing out of the bite and down his arm, it was cold and sluggish. 

Simon pushed the wrist into her mouth, tilting her head up to try and force her to swallow. 

She wasn’t moving. Watching with misted eyes and slowly blinking like she was spacing out. Lips fell slack against his skin. 

“You need to drink. Drink. Drink now.” Simons voice was laced with Encanto, he put all his power to making his voice like silk, sweet and comforting and oh so convincing.

Teeth suddenly latching on, she drank, so desperate but in her eyes, she still looked disinterested and hopeless. 

He forced his wrist away, she gave a moan of despair and objection. This was the hard part. Simon had never let himself do this either. To just fully let go. Because for this to work she had to be dead, and by drinking her blood she would die faster than bleeding out. 

Simon swallowed, throat dry, but not from hunger, from nerves and worry and sorrow because this was wrong, doing this was wrong. 

“You... you do not feel any pain. You are going to sleep. You are safe, and everything is going to be alright. I’m going to take care of you, my family is going to take care of you. I promise.”

Her eyes closed, head falling to one side and her breath became even, despite the struggled sound of her lungs trying to claw in oxygen. 

Simon drew in a breath he didn’t need. 

And he bit down.

The blood wasn’t what he was expecting. Simon realised that his diet was only high quality blood, rich in nutrients from official blood doners that were healthy enough to give. This was weak blood, not enough iron, or anything else really. It wasn’t sweet like some types were, but bland and almost stale tasting. 

Despite this observation, Simon drank and drank, greedy and delighted, warm blood surging down his throat and making his whole body buzz in a warmth that only came from feeding. He hadn’t lost himself like this in a while, and part of him wanted to stop and pull back. But Simon knew that this girl had to die in order for her to be saved. He didn’t hold back.

Eventually, there was hardly any blood left to drink, a growl left his lips in disappointment. But he came back to himself, blood dripped from his mouth and fangs ached, but he was there. Simon was himself. Her heartbeat had stopped, he wasn’t sure when she had died, he hadn’t been paying attention. 

Simon sat in the alleyway with a dead girl cradled in his arms, both of them covered in blood. Fingers shaking, he pulled his phone from his pocket and with some struggling, as the blood covering his hand couldn’t work the touch screen, Simon selected a number from his contacts.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Raphael. I need your help. Please please help me.”

Red tears dripped down his face as he sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Simon really doesn’t have the best record when it comes to fledglings, in both the books and the tv show. Also, I’m trying to make my OCs and the other children badass, but Max is quite literally someone who looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone argues about what to do about Simon’s dead mundane.

“What exactly are you going to do now?! Years ago, WE WERE IN THIS EXACT SPOT, making this decision about you! And now, we’re here again! Except, this time! It’s not you Simon, it’s this, this random mundane who you picked up of the street!” Jace yelled. He was red in the face, and kept gesturing towards the corpse that had been placed carefully on the table. 

Raphael was gently wiping away the blood dried at the side of her neck, he kept glancing up to see how Simon was handling being shouted at. Magnus, Izzy and Clary were all there too, but they hadn’t really commented yet, other than asking of Simon was alright and then backing off when Jace lost it. 

“I couldn’t leave her there, she was going to die without me,” mumbling under his breath, Simon couldn’t stop watching as Raphael finished cleaning the now healed wound and started wiping his hands clean.

“Do you not remember last time? Do you not remember how you feel, how you felt when you crawled out of that grave? At least you had Clary there, who exactly does this girl have? Where is her family!? You acted, not knowing who the hell this is and whether they would even want this!”

Magnus intervened, “I think we all need to calm down. Simon acted in the moment, and from what we know of the situation, the child doesn’t look like she had anywhere to live, let alone a family.”

Simon was trembling, hands clasping and wringing and he just seemed so distraught, so at war with himself. It was the right thing, it had to be. He had to have made the right choice. 

“She’s malnourished, but considering the state she’s in I’d like to investigate. Theres something really not right about this, there must have been a reason she, she”, Izzy took a deep breath to calm herself. “She shot herself. We don’t even know where she got the gun from, it doesn’t make sense.”

She wrapped her arms around Simon. “Jace, you and I are going to look around and find out what happened.”

“What?! You cannot be serious. What are we going to do with this dead mundane?” Jace glared at her. He was furious, Simon couldn’t handle being a Sire, it was just a fact. This was a disaster in motion.

“She’s not a mundane, she’s in transition.” Raphael mentioned. “And this decision is not yours, it’s Simons. She’s young, and if she’s got no family maybe your family would be a good place for her.” He nodded in Simon and Izzy’s direction. “I’ve contacted the DuMort, they would be happy to share responsibility for her with you, she could live there and you visit or something of the like. It could work.”

“She wanted to end her life. If...if she had a good one, if this time I could give her a good one, it might not be great but we’ve adopted before and she could have a good family with us.” Simon stumbled on his words, heavy like lead on his tongue.

“You don’t even know her!”

“She’s a child in danger.” Magnus’ voice was soft, and he looked at Jace in that way he sometimes got. Eyes ageless, deep and dark and old. Magnus was an immortal, he had seen things and now he looked at Jace like the powerful person he was, the statement he made was not in question. 

“Me and Raphael will handle this with Simon. Won’t we, dear boy?”

Raphael nodded.

Simons thoughts cleared, it was like swimming through murky water, heavy and making him want to just fade into the background and give up.

“I want to change her. I’ll be a better Sire, and if not, I trust those at the DuMort to deal with it.”

Jace scoffed. “Clary?”

Clary moved forward, and grabbed his arm. She looked at Simon, “I think you can do it. You’re a parent now, and she’s a kid. She can’t just be dead. If you think you can do this, try.”

She held onto Jace, and began to pull him towards the door. “Iz? We’re gonna go find out what happened to this girl. And you, Simon, are going to finish saving her.”

Magnus clapped his hands together, and spun around with flair.

“Come on then. We’ve got a body to bury. Who’s got a shovel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be either detective work or the vampire turning.... or maybe a mixture of both in one chapter. And technically Simon has never seen a vampire turning before so that’s going to be interesting. Please comment what you think! Thank you!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon buries his fledging, and him, Raphael and Magnus wait to see her wake up.

The graveyard was a Catholic one, Raphael had chosen it. The night air was cool, not uncomfortably cold but it was still present enough that one couldn’t ignore it. Raphael had dug the grave, he wasn’t as strong as he used to be, but he had enough energy to manage to do it. Simon had been quiet the whole time, standing there, holding her. Cradling this girl with the dark, filthy hair in his arms, he was gentle and quiet and stood so still he could be a statue. 

“Your choice is the same?” Magnus checked in, glancing at the silent vampire.

“Yes. That’s the fourth time you’ve asked.”

“Having a kid is a big decision, that’s all.”

“Camille never acted as my family. She was my Sire, and all she ever tried to do was use me and kill me. I can do better, being a Downworlder isn’t easy, I know.” Simon laughed, empty and it felt strained, like he was going to break. “I hated Clary when she did this to me. But I can’t just let this girl be dead, when she had never had a chance to live in the first place.”

Simon glanced at the girl, in her dirty street clothes and wondered what Ellie would think of all this. His daughter was open minded, and she would understand, but this might come as a shock. He breathed in, deep and long. The smell of Magnus’ cologne tickled the back of this throat, underneath that was the smell of sandalwood, familiar and soft. Raphael’s clean smell, he smelled of spices and simple soap. He smelt kind, as priest should be. 

And she smelt empty. 

Hollow, no blood under her skin, unlike the others. Magnus’ smelt like ash, too thick, like tar. Disgusting. Raphael smelt much better, delicious human blood. With a good diet and plenty of exercise, his blood smelt like a home cooked meal, warm and welcoming. But on top of that, the smell of holy water. 

“Well, you know I’m all for adopting Downworlders. I think you’re doing the right thing.” Magnus placed his hand on Simon’s shoulder and squeezed. Simon turned around and smiled.

“I’m done, are we ready?” Raphael climbed out of the grave. “Last chance to change your mind.”

Simon hugged the body close to his chest. “We’re ready.”

——————————————

The grave was still, heavy, patted down dirt. Magnus was leaning against a tree, Raphael and Simon sat at his feet. They talked lightly, Magnus about things from centuries ago, old countries and bright colours and when the air was cleaner. Simon laughed at old stories, and thought about writing new songs based on wonders lost to time. Raphael rolled his eyes and made dry comments.

A while into the night, Simon sat up straighter as he felt the slight tremors across the ground. He stood up, panicked and Raphael reached into his bag to pull out several blood bags.

The hand breaking the soil clawed at the small hole it made, twitching like a dying spider. It scrabbled, black nails grabbing at the loose dirt, and eventually the other hand burst into the air, acting as desperately as the first. 

Struggling, the fledgling dragged its heavy body out of the grave. The body was spasming, twitching and shaking. Simon had never seen anything more disturbing, it was basically a wild animal in an unknown environment. It growled, a deep sound that came from deep in its chest. It’s hair was thick with dirt, clumps of grass and pebbles clung there. She.. because she was a she, Simon realised. 

She hung her head, hands bracing her body over the grave. Something began to drip onto the ground, spilling from her face. 

Tears?

Simon lowered himself to the ground, trying to see her face. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, please don’t cry...”

He saw her face.

Her mouth was wide open, and the liquid pooling in the grave dirt was saliva. New fangs were sharp and long, too big for her mouth. She was heaving, and the drool spilled from her lips as she shook heavily. 

Simon shoved the blood bag at her, and the girl let out a loud hiss as she snatched it out of his hands, sinking her fangs though the plastic, ripping and pouring it into her hungry mouth.

The slurping noise was extremely loud, Magnus couldn’t help but flinch at the sound, of the desperation. Squishing, the fledging gulped down the blood and then hissed when there was none left. The next bag spilled all down the sides of her mouth and neck, delighted little noises that were happy growls echoed from her throat.

She attacked the third bad even more excitedly, ripping it to shreds with her hands and then licking the blood of them. Tongue exploring the dirt and blood stained palms of her hands. Simon watched, she had been starved in life and now in death she was just as hungry. He was lucky they had brought six blood bags, the way she was eating.

The fourth bag was the last she drank, pouring it desperately into her mouth and dropping it on the ground before sitting down heavily, curling to herself.

Blue eyes looked up from the blood and stared unblinking at Simon. She looked scared, and her body finally stilled, frozen in fear.

Raphael moved to crouch next to Simon. “Hello there, you’re going to be alright. We’re going to help you, you’re safe with us. I am Raphael, and this is Simon.”

The girl stared, and then she smiled.

The mouth turned up in a delighted grin, blood stained mouth and teeth on full display in a freakish show of joy.

The voice croaked out, in hesitant words.

“I’m going to Heaven? This is Heaven? You’re Simon Peter and the angel Raphael? Thank you, thank you so much, I didn’t want to go to hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next chapter will be some detective work to find out where our fledging came from. Please leave Kudos and comment! Thank you!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadowhunters look to see if they can find out where Simon’s fledging came from. Suggested abuse, so trigger warning.

“Okay, the gun was nothing special. Any mundane could have brought it from anywhere. The interesting thing is that she shot herself in the chest. If she was planning on dying, she would have shot herself in the head. Theory, she ran into the alley, with gun.” Izzy pointed to the dead end of the alleyway. “She realised her mistake, she had nowhere to go.”

“So, whoever was chasing her, she didn’t want them to catch her. She didn’t want to get caught, so desperately, that she panicked and shot herself.” Clary observed. 

Izzy stared at the entrance of the alley, if this girl was running, where was she running from? It couldn’t have been far. The nearby buildings were abandoned... Unless they weren’t.

“Jace? Can you use your runes to see if there’s any people in the buildings this end of the street?” She led them out of the alley and looked around the larger quiet street.

“Fine.” One of his runes began to glow on his collarbone as it was activated. Jace glanced up at the surrounding buildings, his eye sight of shifting so he could see the heat signatures of both Izzy and Clary. He searched the first few building, eyes moving side to side as he looked over each floor. In the last one, there was a large heat signature, several people gathered close together. On the outside, it was an old shaky looking apartment building. The windows were all boarded up, it looked like it hadn’t been touched in.... 10 years maybe? A bit longer?

“There. This one. Several people inside. We’re going in, aren’t we?”

Clary’s face lit up, “you know we are.”

The inside of the building was filthy, rats scattered around and Izzy kept biting her tongue to stop herself from screeching when one came way too close to her foot. They were glamoured, no one would be able to see them unless they were part of the Shadow-world. 

The first man they walked past had a disgusting smug look on their face, the kind that made Clary’s skin crawl. The look men gave women on the street, when they won a fight by kicking someone when they were down. Jace hated that look, he punched people with that look and watched Izzy kick them in balls of they even gave that look to her. 

The next few men were all gathered together around a table, playing cards together. Beer bottles littered the room, and there was only one other door to the room. 

Clary gave a tilt of her head to Izzy, indicating to a stack of tins and bottles on a cardboard box. Izzy moved over to them, and kicked the box, sending the glass bottles shattering on floor. The men started, and stood up rapidly, pulling small black guns from the pockets of their jackets.

The same gun. It was the same model gun she had. 

Clary moved quickly, looking out the corner of her to see the men confusedly examine the collapsed box and shattered floor. The door was locked, but she drew the unlock rune quick and precise onto the door handle. Glancing round to see Izzy knock over another box, sending the men jumping into the air and spinning around looking shocked, Clary pushed open the door and stepped into the room. 

It was incredibly dark, the windows didn’t let in any light, boarded up with two layers of wooden boards. When Clary’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she inhaled sharply and then gagged on the smell of the room.

Seven girls were chained to the walls, each one covered in dirty loose clothes, ribs showing through the fabric. They had burns marks up the side of their necks, and Clary noted bruises on their wrists. It was horrific, the girls had empty eyes that stared at Clary with fear. They didn’t move away from her, just sat still on the floor. 

They were so used to this that they didn’t panic, she realised.

Clary didn’t remember moving, but she just appeared back in the room with the men, dropping her glamour and punching the closest one in the face. She hit and hit and hit until he dropped to the floor, twitching. She heard Jace shouting at her, but she moved onto the next one, hitting and hitting as skin split under her fist and knocked people to the floor.

———————————————

The police had arrived in record time, with several ambulances that were wrapping the girls in silver blankets. The men were arrested, and the medics were working fast to fix the victims up to IVs.

Izzy listened in, hearing that each one of the girls gave the same story. They had been there a long time, they couldn’t remember when they were brought there or how long, but it was all they had ever known. The medics suspected some sort of head trauma, or simply even that the amount of abuse had caused their minds to remove the memory because they couldn’t handle it. 

The flashing lights danced blue and red in the night, clouding Jace’s vision as he held Clary in his arms, watching the mundanes move and work to save the day. He squeezed her tightly, a frown on his face. People were disgusting. Jace fought monsters everyday, but demons were meant to be monsters. These men here, were the real monsters, dark and twisted and no reason to be that way.

“There was another girl,” someone croaked out. “She escaped last night, and they shot her. We heard it. Did you find the body?”

Izzy couldn’t stand it anymore, the police could take it from here. She walked back towards Jace and Clary, and with ice in her voice, she said:

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yah this story kinda got dark but I swear it will get happier again I promise. I hope you liked it 😊


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The DuMort gets a new fledging. This chapter is a bit longer than normal cuz I just enjoyed writing it so much 😊

She’d been silent the whole time in the car, listening to them explaining, well pretty much everything. She was a vampire, Simon was her Sire and he had saved her life. Magnus was a half demon, he could do magic, all blue and sparkly. There were other creatures, fairies and werewolves and a bunch of things she didn’t quite understand. She was dead, and they were driving to a hotel where the rest of the vampires lived. Her own room, people who would support her, Magnus agreed to buy her new clothes. She had seen wicked people, but right here, right now? That was kindness. It glowed out of their faces, in nervous glances and patient words. 

Simon stared at the road ahead, he drove slowly and listened to the sound of his friends explaining all the horrors and the wonders of the Shadow-world. She hadn’t freaked out, only smiling as she examined her hands and listened whilst tilting her head to the side a little. 

Raphael asked “do you have questions?”

“Oh just one main one. I don’t, I don’t have to hurt people? That’s what you said. So I... so the hotel will provide me with the, with the blood?”

Simon called back, “That’s right, I get mine delivered to my house. You can live there if you like, well after a while at the DuMort, just so you can get used to things. And you can always live in both, back and forth. Cuz I’m your Sire, and the vampires at the DuMort are our clan you know. They like it when they get new fledglings. There will be plenty of blood for you to drink, and if you don’t want human that’s fine there is animal as well. Sorry sometimes I ramble...” He scratched the back of his head with one hand, feeling Raphael’s stare burning holes in his skull. He hates fidgeting.

“That’s okay, I like the sound of your voice.”

————————————————-

Lily met them outside the hotel, introducing herself with a flip of her hair and taking the girl by the hand and leading her inside.

The girl looked back over her shoulder nervously and then sighed in relief as the others walked in behind her. 

“You can have a nice shower, my daughter used to be your size so I brought some of her old clothes for after.” Magnus gave a comforting smile and nodded at Lily. “She’ll take good care of you, we’ll be waiting for you.”

The girl had never seen a bathroom so clean, it was all white and smelt of chemicals. The bottles lining the shelves were all different coloured goo, she could smell the mixes from across the room. Each one was different and bright... was this happiness? Was this what happiness smells like?

She peeled off her clothes, dipping one foot into warm water and jumping back when it rippled under her touch. She whipped round to look at Lily, who had turned her back but was laughing softly at the noises. The fledgling sank into the tub, poking at the bubbles with a timid finger. Lily walked over and asked if she could help her wash, holding in her giggles as the girl smiled delighted as she cupped her hands and smelled the bubbles. 

As Lily used sandalwood shampoo to wash out the grave dirt, her eyes travels to the scar on her shoulder. It should have healed in the transformation, but the large scar in the shape of a cross was ugly and deep. Vampires were harmed by holy objects, and the old scar tissue making up the sign of Christian cross would forever be there now. This kid could not catch a break...

When Lily walked into new clean bedroom, the boys were all spread out across the room. It had a wide bed with soft clean sheets, a wardrobe filled with borrowed clothes (that Magnus and Simon had taken from their daughters) and a desk with a swivel chair. Simon was sitting in the chair when Lily entered, looking extremely pleased with herself. 

When the girl appeared in the room, she was dressed in cotton pyjamas and Lily had cut her hair into a bob, all short and fluffy. Before, with all the grime, it had looked a muddy brown. But now, all washed and fluffy like feathers, it was red. A ginger colour like flames, a warm sunset over the ocean. She was running her fingers through it, ruffling and giving small tugs to see its colour. 

“The room is mine?”

“Of course. Soon, we’ll get you some proper clothes of your own, and anything else you want.” Magnus gestured around the room, and then pointed at Simon. “You will not be going shopping with Simon that’s for sure. Either me or Simon’s wife Izzy will do. We have much better taste.”

The girl stared at Magnus and then looked at each of them in turn. “This is real? You’re really going to take care of me? Are you telling the truth?”

Something hit everyone in the room, a wave of persuasion washed over them and they all responded immediately.

“I am not lying.”

Encanto? In a fledging? Working on a warlock and two other vampires? Raphael made eye contact with Lily, this was something they would have to talk about later.

The girl relaxed and she sat down on the bed, bouncing lightly. “I’ve never had a bed before.”

Raphael moved towards the door, gesturing to Lily to leave. “You don’t just have a bed now, you’ve got a home.”

————————————————

Over the next week, Simon and the others found out a few interesting things about the fledging.

1\. She didn’t have a name. She was trying to choose one though.  
2\. She was unnaturally good at encanto, working so well that she could hypnotise other Downworlders.  
3\. After one of the vampires trying to teach her to read, and a surprising amount of progress made very quickly, Magnus realised she had a photographic memory. She could read and write English now, spending hours fixed on a book or article, desperately trying to teach herself anything and everything.  
4\. Her encanto let her trust people, she found she could simply ask someone’s intent and they had to tell her the truth. Simon found that she happily trusted anyone after this test.  
5\. Simon sang her to sleep every morning, playing soothing melodies on his guitar.  
6\. And on the days she couldn’t sleep, it was Raphael she loved to talk to.

It was late morning, her and Raphael sat in one of the DuMort’s kitchens, heated blood in a mug between her hands as Raphael spoke of his family and growing up.

“Do you miss your sister?”

“I miss Rosa very much, she meant the world to me. But she lived a good life, and I think that is what matters.”

Izzy and Simon had walked in then, and the girl had become extremely excited about meeting the famous Isabelle. Simon hovered anxiously at first, nervous about his fledging being in a room with so much fresh blood. But whenever her eyes started to wonder to their necks, she gulped down some more blood from the mug. “Fast learner,” Simon thought, a proud smile appearing on his lips.

———————————————

“I think I’ve got a name now.”

She glanced at Raphael, who nodded in approval for what she was about to say.

“I would like to be called Rose.”

Izzy smiled brightly, “Rose Lovelace. Sounds perfect to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose is easy to trust others despite her trauma because her encanto makes her feel safer, if she doubts someone’s intentions she can simply make them tell her the truth. I named her Rose after Raphael’s sister, Rosa, because she enjoys listening to his stories.  
> Ellie - um where have I been these past few chapters?  
> Author - we’re getting to that, don’t worry.   
> Ellie - I was scared you forgot about me...  
> Author - we’re just meeting Rose! You’ll be in the next chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never trust a demon...

Do vampires have souls? It was an old question, people always asked it. Whether for religious reasons or just plain old curiosity, every vampire asked it at some point. Some asked their fellow vampires, or even asked the oldest warlocks they knew. Most of the time the answer was the same, no one knew and people weren’t sure. 

But that wasn’t entirely true. 

A few individuals of the Downworld had heard of theories that the demons said. It was a complicated idea, the warlocks heard of it and decided it was better to keep to themselves. The theories were written down in old volumes in demonic languages, so they were recorded in a way only warlocks could access them.

The main theory was that vampires did not have souls. They retained all of their memories and personality, but the energy that allowed them to pass into the “afterlife” was gone. The “soul”. It didn’t change who a vampire was, it just mean that this unlife, was their afterlife. When a vampire dies, that was the end. 

The warlocks follow up question was what happened to this energy, the soul. Some suggested that it just drifted off after the fledgling emerged from its grave, a bundle of energy that had copies of memories and personality, floating off into the night to be eaten by a stray demon.

This was the theory. A warlock secret that no one ever talked about, because vampires didn’t need anymore sorrow in their lives.

————————————-

On the night Rose came back from the dead, her soul left her as she clawed her way to the surface, digging her way through soil. The soul rose through the ground in a little orb of white light, unseen to the human eye. As the three men took care of the fledgling, none of the, saw the orb bob away into the night, dancing round the gravestones and brushing through dew covered grass.

The orb spiralled over the city, it paused at windows and gave a happy humming noise when it saw smiling people within. It circled the legs of people walking around the city, listening to them laughing and watching them link arms. The soul watched other people live their lives, breathing and happy. It floated over New York, darting in and out of streets, occasionally stopping to hover near billboards and sparkling lights. Eventually, it came to the Institute. The soul observed the Shadowhunters walking in and out of the huge building, dressed in black with bright souls of their own, souls that had thoughts and were more than just bundles of energy. The soul buzzed sadly, and drifted back into the dark of the night.

—————————————-

“-and then, we found Max and he had taken the demon down all by himself! And the kill was so clean, it was so impressive. We all did so well it was brilliant and we went out to get ice cream after it was great!”

Ellie was perched on a chair in her room, legs curled under her as she gestured widely whilst explaining her most recent mission. Her Father sat cross legged in the summoning circle, nodding his vaguely human shaped head. The demon would occasionally smile at his daughter, as she excitedly launched into parts of her story.

“But the weirdest thing happened today, Mum and Dad have been so busy, Alec called me and was all like “they’re on a mission, don’t worry” but what does that even mean! Sometimes I think the Shadowhunters see me as lesser, they don’t feel the need to explain things to me like I’m not some incredibly powerful warlock which I am!”

At this statement, Ellie fell off the chair with a soft oof.

“You do live a complicated life, a dangerous one. I’m sure they will come home soon. And I agree, you are a powerful warlock. I wonder why they don’t seem to see that.”

“If you’re trying to tempt me with sweet evil words, it’s not going to work Father.” Ellie frowned, as she picked herself up the floor and glanced away from the circle.

All of a sudden, her phone began to chime from across the room. The awkward silence broken, Ellie answered the phone, not taking her eyes of the demon that was sitting relaxed with his head tilted.

“Thea. Is Magnus home yet?...No? Yah I’m not sure either.” Ellie narrowed her eyes at the demon and directed her voice at him. “I need to take this call, don’t go anywhere.”

She smirked, gesturing at the pentagram and walking out of the room, shutting the room behind her.

The demon rose from his place in the floor, as he gained height he took a more solid form, showing red slitted eyes and a mouth full of fangs. His long black limbs were flecked with the occasional black feather, matching the wings on his back.

The soul floated through the open window, humming sadly.

The demon walked to the edge of the circle, focusing hungry eyes on the small orb of light. The soul flitted back and forth, as if it was thinking about whether to approach the demon. He breathed in, oh and it’s smell. Full of despair and desperation. It was a sad thing, full of pain and misery. 

But underneath all that, the soul had courage. He could smell the emotions coming off of it, the human would rather die than go back to a life of suffering. How incredibly stubborn. How utterly mouthwatering.

The demon held out its hand, palm up. The soul came closer, and with one final sad buzz, it floated into the pentagram. Hovering over the demon’s clawed black hand, it pulsed with gentle light and lowered itself till it rested against his skin.

The demon closed his hand around the soul and smiled, all teeth.

Everything was coming together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just an idea I had about vampires having souls... if you think it’s bad I’m so sorry 😂 but yay Ellie’s father is back! Some evil plans coming soon... I hope you liked this chapter! Please leave kudos and comment, I’m open to suggestions if there’s anything you want to see 😊 Coming soon... another mission for the kids, Rose meets everyone and I’m planning a romance or two.


End file.
